In Good Hands
by jacuzzin
Summary: Tumnus is relieved to know he isn't the only one who would die for young Lucy Pevensie. Family-centered.


**A little plot bunny I got while watching the first movie uninterrupted on Disney. Tell me what you think! Of course, I don't own Narnia.**

**IN GOOD HANDS**

**Summary: Tumnus is relieved to know he isn't the only one who would die for young Lucy Pevensie.**

The Cair was always quieter and morose without the presence of their Monarchs. Tumnus was passing by the throne room again and he tried not to let a wistful gaze fall upon the empty thrones. Though, it did finally give him time to order the ferrets to wipe them down. Even from here he could still see small specks of dried blood from the High King's most recent campaign, never cleaned because of the constant occupancy of that seat since his return.

"Their Majesites have returned!" a griffon announced. Tumnus was pleasantly surprised. The Monarchs had expected to be gone one more day on their _vay-cay-shun._

In less than a few moments later, the three rushed into the throne room accompanied by their guards, so exhausted they ignored the hasty bows their entrance demanded. "Oh what's going to happen then?" Susan breathed anxiously.

"No worries, Susan. These are amateurs at best," Peter replied, but his pacing didn't match his comforting tone.

"Amateurs with leverage are perhaps more dangerous than a wizened foe," Edmund said. The boy's face was creased with worry.

Peter kept his pacing and finally let out something akin to a growl, but filled with more confusion and desperation. Tumnus had seen the High King like this many a time, but never this antsy.

"Your Majesties," Tumnus hurried to them and bowed. "Welcome back. And begging your pardon, but where is Queen Lucy?" Edmund and Susan exchanged a pained look, while Peter continued pacing and mumbling to himself.

"We were ambushed," Edmund told him. His eyes held the same agony Tumnus was beginning to feel, like a twisting snake was nipping at his insides. "They took Lucy, and there were too many for us to retrieve her and make it back safely. They told us to return to the Cair and await further instructions."

"They want the Crown," Susan interjected.

At this thought, Tumnus was almost relieved. So that was all? They just wanted the Crown? The power to rule all of Narnia? Why, for sweet, little Lucy that was almost a bargain, ...and preposterous! Instantly his adrenaline revved up again as the faun put things back into perspective.

"Oh no, your Majesties, not Lu-Queen Lucy!" Tumnus couldn't bear to see the young girl scared, let alone held captive for an impossible deal. No one voiced their thoughts, and Tumnus felt fidgety. Their worn faces alone spoke of heartbreak and misery, and each elapsed second felt like an hour. The High King alone was making marks from his constant pacing, back and forth, as he played with useless plans to bring back their youngest sibling.

"We should rest," Susan said much later. "This staying up isn't doing anything for her, just making us incapable of thinking more sharply tomorrow when word comes." She left no beat for protest and promptly shooed both her brothers to bed.

Leaving Tumnus alone. Well, the guards were there as well as the ferrets _finally_, but no one to ease the thoughts sprinting through his mind. He let himself despair for a moment and wondered what their Majesties would do with an empty throne. Melt it down and create a statue of Queen Lucy perhaps, and christen it The Statue of Valiance in rememberence of her final moments...

He slapped himself. What thoughts to be thinking before there was even reason for it! He pulled his scarf tightly around himself, though he never really had felt cold before, now he was wracked with chills.

"You all right there, Mr. Tumnus?"

He looked up and saw the High King standing not too far off, still in the same clothing he wore earlier. Tumnus wondered how he was able to escape the grasp of Queen Susan, who could be quite forceful when she put her mind to it.

"Your Majesty!"

"No need here, Mr. Tumnus. Just Peter, please." He sat himself down next to the faun. "You're thinking about her, aren't you? Lucy I mean."

"Yes, I know who 'her' is," Tumnus snapped, and instantly backed down. "I mean, yes sire, I'm worried."

Peter nodded in assent, and was quiet. "This is the second time Lucy's in danger. I've failed her." He held his head limply and Tumnus often marveled at how quickly the golden king could switch from tall, regal monarch to lost boy. Or as he did here, tormented brother.

"Queen Lucy wouldn't blame you, you know that. She would say it was, ah, an unforseen circumstance - "

"Not her," Peter cut in. "My mum." Tumnus fell quiet. He never heard much about the Pevensie mother, just that she wasn't here with them, back in Spare Oom perhaps? Peter continued. "I never forgot. In fact, it's the first thing I think about in the morning. _Take care of the others_, she said to me just before we left her. And sometimes it seems alright, like I'm doing my job, and sometimes I wonder how she could have ever entrusted a teenager with the lives of her family."

The faun didn't know what a teenager was, but he caught the gist. "My King, if you want to escape that responsibility, you're not in the right place and definitely have the wrong headpiece on. Here in Narnia, we're _all _entrusting you with the lives of our family. For those of us that have any left, anyway."

Peter smiled, and Tumnus was glad to see his words had an effect on the young king. "You're right. Here I am, thinking oh woe is me like Lucy's already – well, tomorrow's ripe for opportunity, and who knows what will happen. By Aslan's will, she will be here by supper tomorrow night, complaining that I forgot to water that lily on my bedstand again."

Peter stood, energy abound and yet feeling the effects of a long night. He was poise, and looked ready to leave, but his feet stood still. "Mr. Tumnus," he said softly and the faun wiggled his ears to hear him. "If anything _should_ happen, well - "

"I'd die for her, gladly," Tumnus said. He looked up at the throne and could see the youngest Queen, head held high with a wisdom and faith far beyond her age, and in the gardens where she would smile and it seemed Narnia would light up at such simple happiness, and when the two talked, she was like the same child who so charmed him back when everything was cold, her very presence melting a traitor into what he was really, a Narnian.

"Beyond everything, she is my Queen and friend." Tumnus looked back at Peter. "There isn't much I _wouldn't_ do for her."

Peter smiled. "Agreed, my good faun. I can't imagine how she feels, always being left behind while Edmund and I are off. If this is even an inch of it, well, I don't envy her. Even if I'm the one on the battlefield."

"In those times, Lucy worries for her brothers. But she doesn't despair," a fact which Tumnus needed to remind himself, "She trusts in her brothers to return safely, and has faith that whatever happens, you will find a way."

"Lucy. I always could look up to her. And I _will_ find a way to bring her home." Tumnus could hear the underlying _must _in his resolve. A fire was ignited in the High King, and Tumnus saw exactly how so many have come to adore, honor, and even cower before someone so young. He was magnificent.

"Um, your, I mean, Peter," Tumnus addressed him as a friend, "I don't like playing favorites, but if there appears, uh, _more_ unforeseen circumstances..."

Peter smiled, heartfelt, and at the same time accepting, "No worries, Mr. Tumnus. I too would die for her." His eyes held a glow that was too old for his smooth face, and Tumnus was reminded how quickly children grew up when the time called for them. How he himself had been too afraid to murmur ill to the Witch, but once he saw what, or who, exactly he was betraying, he had finally hardened his resolve and grew up.

The High King left, but not without giving Tumnus the assurance he needed. So when the morrow arrived, and the letter came, and the Kings went out to meet their foe, and by nightfall they returned with a small figure tightly held in the arms of the taller King, even when the small figure grumbled, saying, "I'm not hurt, Peter, put me down – ouch!", Tumnus could say he never worried. Lucy was in good hands.


End file.
